


1 aka Till Death Do Us Part

by JDSampson



Series: Counting Kisses [5]
Category: Project Blue Book (TV)
Genre: Feels, M/M, Magic, Pre-Slash, Romance, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 05:02:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19900261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JDSampson/pseuds/JDSampson
Summary: Someone sends Quinn an ancient Egyptian bracelet that has the power to reveal the truth.





	1 aka Till Death Do Us Part

1 aka Till Death Do Us Part

The box was delivered to the Project Blue Book office by a messenger who had instructions to put it only into the hands of Captain Michael Quinn. No, you can’t leave it at the gate. No, you can’t leave it with a secretary. Quinn only and get a signature.

His insistence resulted in several rounds of phone calls from the guard gate and the services of an MP who accompanied the young man to Quinn’s office.

The box was about the size of a small picnic basket, wrapped in plain brown paper, tied with string and with no return address. The delivery boy said he didn’t know the origin either. Packages came into the office, they went into his truck and it was his job to get them where they belonged, no questions asked.

Plenty of people mailed things to the Blue Book office. Mostly silly things like potatoes that were so malformed they looked like alien seed pods from a scifi movie. Some things were the kinds of things you tossed into the incinerator and washed your hands twelve times after opening.

But this was the first time anyone had paid good money for a delivery service verses the good old, United States Post Office, so Quinn was especially curious.

As curious as he was, Doctor Allen Hynek was salivating at the sight of the mystery package. He picked it up off the desk while Quinn was signing the receipt but got snapped at when he reached for the letter opener.

“Don’t even think about it. That package is addressed to me!”

“I thought we were partners,” said Allen as he used the letter opener to saw at the strings.

“In everything but packages.” Quinn sent the delivery boy and the MP on their way then snatched the parcel out from under Allen’s saw. “What if it’s personal? From my admiring public. I am on the television quite often.”

Allen pulled a face. “It’s more likely to be another piece of produce that resembles Ming the Merciless.”

“Then why are you so anxious to have a look?” Quinn dug into his pocket for a pen knife which he used to cut the string.

“It’s purely scientific curiosity.”

“Just jealous because people don’t send you special packages.” Quinn sat down with the box on his lap then swiveled his chair so Allen couldn’t see what he was doing.

“Oh stop!” Allen protested. “If I say I’m jealous will you let me watch while you unwrap it?”

Quinn swiveled back around, a smirk going from his lips to his eyes.

“Fine and if it’s a dead animal, I’ll let you keep it.”

“That’s swell of you, thanks.” Allen came around to Quinn’s side of the desk for a better view.

Performing more of a strip tease than a package opening, Quinn slowly and meticulously cut the tape on the paper flaps then gently peeled back the brown paper wrapping. One side. Then the other and done!

Nothing more interesting than a plain cardboard box lay underneath.

Quinn used his penknife to slice the tape holding the flaps shut. He was just about to finish when Allen said, “What if it’s a bomb?”

He hesitated. Leaned forward ear to the box. After what had happened to Fairchild it was a real possibility.

“It is addressed to YOU,” Allen said with a bit too much glee in his voice.

That was the push Quinn needed to cut the last quarter inch of tape and open the box. No tease this time, just bam!

No bang. No bomb.

“What is that?” Allen wasn’t joking anymore. There was a box in the box. But the inner box was made of wood and it was intricately carved and inlaid with what appeared to be. . .

“Are those jewels? As in real gemstones?” Quinn slipped his hands into the cardboard container and lifted out the prize inside. He set it on his desk while Allen cleared away the outer wrappings.

The wooden box was about the size of a toaster. There were leather ties holding the lid in place but unlike the utilitarian string around the package, these ties were part of the presentation. There were dozens of symbols carved on the lid and the sides. A moon, stars, a triangle and a design not unlike the “off switch”.

A series of small diamonds formed a shape reminiscent of a constellation while larger stones – maybe a ruby and an emerald took the place of planets in the gemstone sky.

Quinn reverently ran his finger over the stones as Allen ran to get his magnifying glass.

“This thing looks old. And the symbols – they’re Egyptian, aren’t they?”

“That would be my guess,” said Allen. “But I’m no expert.”

Quinn scoffed. “That’s a first.”

The joke went over Allen’s head as he was busy examining the stars on the lid. “They look real enough and yes, I’d say this thing is very old. A couple of thousand years old.”

Quinn, who had just untied one of the leather straps, stopped mid action. “Seriously?”

“Again, I’m no expert.”

“Hell must be freezing over.” Again, Allen missed the joke.

Quinn untied the second strap and prepared to lift off the lid. Again, he paused mid-action. “So, this thing could have come from a mummy’s tomb?”

“It’s possible.”

Quinn pushed the box toward Allen. “You open it.”

Allen almost did then he, too paused mid-action. “It was addressed to you.”

“Chicken,” Quinn mumbled as he took over opening duties. “If a mummy comes after me to get his box back, I’m giving him your address.” He yanked off the lid like he was ripping off a Band-Aid.

The inside of the box was lined with a silky fabric that was stuffed to create a bump in the center. A metal bracelet encircled the bump. Like the box itself, it was highly decorative with symbols and diamonds in another star pattern.

Quinn lifted it with great care but found that it wasn’t at all delicate. Certainly not as delicate as a several thousand-year-old artifact should be. “If this thing is real, it belongs in a museum. Why would someone send it to me?”

“Obviously because they believe the origin is more otherworldly. There are plenty of people who believe that ancient aliens built the pyramids and gave the Egyptians knowledge that was far beyond what they could have developed on their own.”

“Is that what you think?” Quinn turned the bracelet over his hand to inspect the latch on the underside.

“No, but even without an accurate translation of the symbols on this box, it’s easy to see why someone would think it’s extraterrestrial in origin.” Allen spotted a bit of paper tucked in behind the fabric. He lifted it out and unrolled the small scroll.

More symbols.

“I’ll take this to the University. Professor Wonderly teaches Egyptology. She should have no trouble translating all of this text.”

“Uh, Doc.”

The tepid tone of Quinn’s voice made Allen look up from the scroll. Quinn was wearing the bracelet.

“That’s not a toy. It’s a valuable artifact. Take it off.”

“I can’t.”

“Very funny.”

“No joke. I can’t.” Quinn turned his wrist over to show Hynek the latch. Seemed simple enough. Allen pinched the mechanism, but it wouldn’t budge. “See.”

“Why did you put it on in the first place?”

Quinn shrugged. “Because I wanted to see how it looked? I don’t know. I put it on and now I can’t get it off.”

Allen sighed. “You’re so much work.”

“Says the nutty professor. Use the letter opener and see if you can pry open the latch.”

“I will not!” Allen snatched up the letter opener just in case Quinn should want to try it himself. “You can’t damage it. It’s . . . . priceless.”

“Only they’ll have to cut my arm off if they want to exhibit it in the museum.” Quinn reached for his cigarettes.

“No!” Allen snatched the pack away and added it to the letter opener. “Nicotine on your fingers. The smoke itself. It could all be very damaging to the bracelet.”

Quinn had murder in his eyes. “If you don’t give me my smokes, it’s not the bracelet that’s going to be damaged.”

Allen handed them over and put a little distance between himself and his partner.

Quinn lit up a smoke and then settled into his chair, manacled arm lying flat on the desk.

“We’re both probably doing it wrong,” Allen declared. “Not like we have a lot of experience with bracelets.”

A smooth smile curled Quinn’s lips. “Doc, I can undo a bra catch in the backseat of a moving car with a single snap of my fingers. I should be able to handle the catch on a bracelet.” Quinn took another drag on the cigarette. When he moved his hand away from his face, the smile was gone, replaced by a look of horror. “What if it’s cursed? What if it really is from a mummy’s tomb and it’s cursed and that’s why I can’t get it off!”

“That’s nonsense,” said Allen but Quinn felt an odd sensation that he could only describe as mild panic. Weird. Even in the most dangerous of situations, he wasn’t given to fits of panic.

“Pack the box back in the . . . box and let’s go to the University. Maybe the scroll has instructions on it. I’m sure Professor Wonderly will be able to work it out.”

That’s what they did. They put the scroll in the wooden box, retied the ties then put that box back in the big box for transport.

As they headed out the door, Quinn again felt a mild wave of anxiety. Maybe he was having an allergic reaction to the metal in the bracelet. The way the day was going, anything was possible.

Professor Wonderly was a short, large woman with thick curly hair, even thicker glasses and the steely gaze of a hawk preparing to swoop down on an unsuspecting mouse.

“Professor Hynek, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you at a faculty event, I was afraid you’d gotten yourself fired.”

“No, I’ve simply been away making ground-breaking discoveries in my chosen field. Anything new in the field of archeology? Wait, new in archeology – that’s an oxymoron, isn’t it?”

Nerd battle.

Quinn stepped up, swept off his hat and tucked it neatly under his arm. “Captain Michael Quinn, ma’am. I work with Doctor Hynek at Project Blue Book. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He hit her with his biggest, smarmiest smile and she melted.

“Oh J. Allen, I can see why you spend more time off campus than on.”

“Excuse me?”

Quinn felt a strange tingle run down his spine. What the what? Before he could recover Professor Wonderly had his arm in her hands.

“This bracelet is magnificent. Is it a copy of a museum piece? It’s clearly based on an Egyptian design, but I’ve never seen anything like it.” She lifted his wrist to her nose for a closer look.

“It’s why we’ve come here,” said Allen, sounding a bit annoyed. “We need your help to translate the symbols on the bracelet and the box it came in.” He plopped the cardboard box down on her messy desk, then lifted the wooden box out of the box. “There’s also a scroll with even more text.”

“A scroll?” Wonderly said absently. She was petting Quinn’s arm like he was a cat as she squinted and craned her neck in an attempt to read what was carved into the bracelet.

“It’s the damnedest thing,” said Quinn. “I can’t get it off.”

The Professor lifted her gaze and hit Quinn with a lascivious smile. “Oh, I’m sure I can help you get off – get it off – your wrist.”

A warm flush rose in Quinn’s cheeks, another new sensation.

“The latch is stuck, and I don’t want to force it because it’s a priceless artifact – or so I’m told.”

That made Wonderly switch tracks. “It’s not a copy?” She dropped his wrist and turned to the wooden box. Using a handkerchief as a glove, she examined the lid, the ties and the scroll. “Oh, my lord, it’s not a copy. This is an actual artifact. I mean, I’d have to run tests to be completely sure but the materials, the craftsmanship, the smell, it all points to the time of the Pharaohs. Where did you get this?”

Quinn recounted the events leading up to their arrival. When he felt himself getting impatient with himself, he cut the story short. Definitely losing his mind.

“Can you read the text or not?” Hynek prodded.

“He’s so impatient,” said Wonderly.

“Tell me about it,” Quinn concurred.

She waved for them both to sit in the chairs in front of her desk (usually reserved for flunking students), while she sat down behind her desk. She turned on a lamp and moved a standing magnifying glass, so it hovered over the lid of the box.

“Understand that translating hieroglyphics isn’t like translating French to English. It’s looser, more poetic and open to interpretation. There are a few words that are obvious – it’s referencing the stars and something about two people. . . “ She switched out the box for the scroll. “Yes, it’s talking about a relationship from the heavens. . . um. . .like lovers but more than that.”

“More than lovers?” Quinn said, fingers dancing over the gems in the bracelet. “What’s more than lovers?”

“Hang on.” Wonderly twirled in her chair and grabbed a hefty book from the shelf behind her. She opened it to the middle and quickly flipped the pages, consulted the scroll, flipped more pages. “Deeper than love, I’d translate it as a. . . “ She fumbled for the proper word. “Soulmates. The bracelet connects the soulmates. . . I need more time to study all of the glyphs. The meaning can change based on the order they appear.”

“And nothing about how to take it off?” Quinn sighed and reached for his cigarettes.

“Oh no!” Professor Wonderly cried. “Don’t smoke! You could damage it!”

“That’s what I said,” Allen chimed in and it was clearly the first thing the two Professors had ever agreed upon.

Wonderly got up and came around for a last look at Quinn and the bracelet. “Maybe it can only be removed by your soulmate. No, that doesn’t make sense. Knowing the Egyptians, it more likely binds you to your soulmate so it would only unlock when that person betrays you, or gives her heart to another or. . . . dies.”

“Wonderful,” said Quinn. “Only, I don’t have a soulmate.” He felt an instant pang of sadness and something else. . . longing?

“Everybody has one.” Wonderly countered. “Wife?”

Quinn shook his head.

“Girlfriend?”

Another shake.

Wonderly smiled and it made him very uncomfortable. “Then you just haven’t met her yet.” She petted Quinn’s arm again. “She must be the one that sent it to you in the first place! Destiny says you’re supposed to be together, but you took a wrong turn and you never met. But now that you have the bracelet, the two of you should be drawn together inexplicably!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Allen snapped, louder than necessary in the small room. “If his soulmate knows who he is and where he works, why didn’t she make an appointment and come to see him. Why send the bracelet?”

“I don’t know! Give me a couple of days to translate the rest of the glyphs and do some research. I’ll call a few colleagues and see if anyone’s ever heard about a bracelet like this. In the meantime, be careful and don’t get it wet or dirty.”

“No shower. No gardening,” said Quinn.

“And no cigarette smoke.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen.”

Both professors sighed and Quinn felt equally frustrated.

“How about I wrap my wrist in clingwrap?” He was kidding but both professors agreed that it would be best.

They left the box and scroll with Professor Wonderly and the bracelet, obviously, went with Quinn when they left. It was getting late, so they decided he should drop Hynek at home and then go home himself.

“Be careful,” Allan warned before getting out of the car in front of his house.

“I got it. It’s a valuable artifact; no dirt, no wet, no smoking.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Allan shifted sideways on the car seat and moved in a little toward Quinn. “I mean, you be careful. Someone sent that TO YOU for a reason and I don’t think it’s because they feel you need to accessorize.”

Quinn hadn’t thought about it being actually dangerous but now that Hynek put that thought into his head and there were these funny butterflies in his stomach. . . “How exactly did they kill the mummy in the Mummy movies?”

Hynek laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry about ImHoTep paying you a visit, but if you feel strange, call me.”

“Strange?” Quinn squeaked out. “I’ve felt nothing but strange this I put this on.”

“Physically strange – dizziness, pulse racing, blurred vision, hallucinations.”

“I could be hallucinating you right now and neither one of us would know the difference.”

Allen’s brows tipped in toward the center of his face as he pondered that concept for a second.

“Your wife,” said Quinn.

Allen startled like he’d been tapped on the shoulder by a phantom in the backseat. He scooted over, hit the passenger door and got tangled in his coat.

It was Quinn’s turn to look perplexed. “And you’re talking to me about strange?” He pointed toward the house. “Your wife.”

Mimi tapped on the window, scaring Allen out of at least another year of life.

Quinn laughed. “Just a mommy not a mummy.”

“Be careful!” Allen pushed the door open, straight into his wife who had to grab hold to keep from being knocked back on her butt.

“You be careful. Hello Mrs. Hynek, Goodbye Mrs. Hynek.”

“Goodbye Captain,” Mimi waved while Allen fussed.

Strange didn’t begin to cover it.

As he watched the two of them walk toward the house, Quinn flashed back on the moment just before when Allen had slid closer, real concern in his eyes. It was almost as if. . .

No. Doctor Allen Hynek was happily married to a beautiful woman. They had a child. And though you wouldn’t call him a manly, man, he certainly was man enough.

Man enough.

The ache in Quinn’s stomach grew to include his chest and his heart. He couldn’t take his eyes of the picture-perfect house with the happy family inside, but his fingertips found the line of small diamonds that formed the constellation on the bracelet.

Soulmates.

Professor Wonderly had naturally assumed that his soulmate was a woman, but Quinn wasn’t so sure.

Something strange did happen at quarter to twelve that night. Quinn was ironing his shirts when he was overcome by the shakes, sweats, heart palpations and . . . seriously?

He liked ironing well enough, it was soothing, and it gave him a sense of order that he thrived on in life. But he didn’t love it enough to get off on it! Then again, there was no mistaking the sensation he’d just felt. It was as if he had stroked himself to finishing and the iron was still in his hand. His shaky, sweaty hand. He set the iron on its stand, switched it off and then unplugged it for good measure.

It was the bracelet. It had to be. But when he examined it, he found nothing amiss. No glowing stones, no change in the carvings and it still fit just as comfortably as it did when he’d slipped it on. It was just a bracelet. And yet here he was desperately craving a cigarette and a cold shower.

Both activities were deemed a no-no but there was one he couldn’t pass on. He grabbed a fresh smoke (even though he had one burning in the ashtray), lit it after a couple of shaky tries then flopped down on the couch to ponder.

Professor Wonderly said that the bracelet was designed to connect him with his soulmate. So maybe it activated the lust part of the brain. It was giving him a nudge, a reminder of how good it would feel to have sex with the same partner night after night. But what good was the reminder when the object of his desire was out of reach?

No. Not out of reach. Out of mind. That’s it, he told himself. He was yet to meet his soulmate. That was the true function of the bracelet to bring him and her together.

It had to be a her.

That’s what his brain said.

His heart was speaking a different language.

Now the only thing he wanted to more than a smoke and a shower was to call Allen. But it was late, and Mimi and Joel were probably asleep. Not the Professor though, he didn’t sleep much. If he was in his study, he could grab the phone on the first ring so as not to wake the family.

Then he remembered Allen’s words in the car, ‘if you feel strange, call me.’

There you go, a direct order.

Quinn dialed. The phone wasn’t answered on the first ring or the second, or the third. Then it was fumbled off the hook and finally a deep-throated, breathless Hynek said, “hello.”

“It’s me. Quinn. I’m sorry, I obviously woke you.”

“No, you didn’t. I was. . . it’s late. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“You bet it did,” Quinn said then stopped cold. How to explain this without. . . “I was ironing.”

“Of course you were. What time is it?”

“Midnight. I was ironing and I was completely overcome by this. . . feeling.”

“Feeling,” Allen repeated, his voice slightly hoarse.

“This is going to sound insane, but it was like I was. . . “ Quinn was beginning to wish he’d never called. Stick with the facts. “I got the shakes and the sweats and my heart was pounding out of my chest and then. . . you know.”

“You threw up?”

“No! I don’t have the flu. I got—aroused.” Quinn whispered the word because it seemed like the right thing to do. Silence on the other end. Hynek wondering if he needed a psych exam about now. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s weird, right?”

“You have no idea how weird.”

Which made the whole situation even weirder.

“Doc? What aren’t you telling me right now?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly. “We need to talk. But not now. In the morning and not at the office. Someplace private.”

Private? “Come to my place.”

“Of course,” said Allen stumbling over his own words. “You live alone. We’d be alone. I mean, there would be no one around – so we can talk. About this.”

“You know you sound like a teenager trying to lie to his father.”

“I do not! I’m tired. That’s all. Not because of anything. . . it’s late, that’s all. I’ll come to your place in the morning. Go to sleep.”

“Okay then, because this conversation isn’t strange at all.”

“In the morning,” Allen repeated. Then he hung up.

As Quinn headed for bed, he was struck by another overwhelming feeling but it was hard to label. Fear? No. Upset? No. Deep concern mixed with. . . only one word fit the bill; humiliation.

What the hell?

Quinn was up at 6. Showered (bracelet be damned), shaved and dressed in freshly pressed pants and long sleeve white shirt by 7. Allen didn’t show until almost 8. Unlike Quinn he was wrinkled, bleary eyed and looked like he hadn’t slept at all.

He was also agitated. So agitated that Quinn felt it in his stomach, in his nerve endings. He recognized the sensations but still they felt so foreign. Like the panic he’d felt the day before. The pang of sadness and longing. The overwhelming wash of sexual release. His brain jumped to a conclusion that he wanted to dismiss but couldn’t.

“Oh. My. God.” Quinn’s mouth was hanging open, but Allen didn’t see it because he was doing everything he could not to lock eyes with his Captain. “You had sex last night, right before I called, didn’t you?”

“No.” Allen growled in that strange way he had.

That threw Quinn off because he was sure . . . . “Really? You and your wife. . .?”

“No! I did not . . with Mimi.”

Quinn’s jaw dropped another fraction of an inch. “You were with some other woman?”

“NO!” Allen protested and embarrassment crept into the mix.

Quinn was sure but if Allen wasn’t lying. . . not with his wife. . . not with another woman.

“Oh!”

“No oh!” Said Allen, then Quinn stepped toward him, he tried to avoid and banged into the coffee table.

“Ow!” They both said simultaneously.

“It’s you!” Quinn added on. “I’m feeling everything you’re feeling because of the bracelet. Because YOU are my soulmate.”

“No!” Allen protested but weaker than before.

“Have you lost every other word from your vocabulary? Speak in full sentences!”

Finally, Allen whipped around and met Quinn head on. “That can’t be right. I can’t be your soulmate. Professor Wonderly clearly read the hieroglyphics wrong. She said they were open to interpretation so it could be partner or very good friends.”

“Bullshit.” Quinn stepped closer. Allen tried to counter but he was out of room to run in the small apartment. It would be funny except that he was panicking, which meant Quinn was panicking and it took every ounce of training he’d ever had to knock it back. “Look at me.”

“No.” Here we go again.

Quinn closed the gap between them and this time Allen chose not to run. His pulse was pounding, breath ragged; symptoms that could be interpreted as fear but there was no mistaking that extra bit – that tingle in the spine, the gloss in the eyes.

“Doc, you can deny it with your words all you want, but I can feel what you’re feeling. I know the truth.” Make the leap. Quinn cupped Allen’s chin with one, strong, long-fingered hand then kissed him as gently as he could on the lips.

One.

The number popped into Allen’s head. Pretty odd given the circumstances. Not ‘no’ or ‘ick’ or ‘what the hell are you doing’ or even ‘hey, that was okay’. One. As in first. As in first of many.

Quinn made a move to step back, but Allen caught him by the shirt to stop the action.

“I’m married.”

“I know.”

“The Air Force would court-martial you. You could go to prison.”

“I know.”

“I’m not. I’ve never.”

Quinn brushed a single finger over the salt and pepper beard that framed Allen’s face. “I know.”

“Have you lost every other word from your vocabulary?”

Quinn nodded then leaned in for another kiss. Not as gentle this time but not hungry enough to scare.

“This is a bad idea,” said Allen.

“Probably but is there any chance you can walk out that door and then show up at the office like nothing’s changed?”

“No.”

Quinn laughed. “Don’t start that again.” He stepped back and this time Allen let him. “Doc. If you really don’t want to go down this road, I’ll understand. I respect you too much to coerce you into a situation you’re not comfortable with. And I care about you too much to risk pushing you away. But if you’re willing to give this a try, I’d like that.”

Honest to a fault. He liked that about Quinn.

“I don’t want to go back to the way things were before you walked in my office that day and I’m afraid – if we do this and it doesn’t work – I mean – it can’t work. Then what? Like you said, we can’t just go pretend nothing’s changed.”

“We’ve already crossed that line so what’s a few more steps?”

Allen closed the gap between them this time. He touched a hand to Quinn’s shirt over his heart. Quinn reached up to connect and the bracelet fell to the floor.

Allen yanked his hand back instantly. “That’s a bad sign.”

“NO, it’s a good sign.” Quinn scooped up the bracelet, put it on his wrist, latched it then easily unhooked the latch and took it off. “The bracelet was made to draw soulmates together. Now that its work is done, there’s no reason for it to hang on. Doesn’t mean I can’t wear it now and then when I really want to know how you’re feeling.”

“You won’t need the bracelet for that.” Allen leaned in, a bit awkwardly and kissed Quinn with a ferocity neither of them expected.

Three.

Kisses and counting.

It would be six by the time they stepped out of Quinn’s apartment on their way to the office.

Since they had to be wary of being seen, they had to agree to never again kiss inside the confines of the base. Which meant there would be no more lip-locking or touching for the rest of the day. Or on most days.

That’s why Allen was thrilled when they got a call to go to Texas. Another state. A long car ride. A motel room. If things went well, they could hit the first goal: twenty. If they got to twenty, then Allen would relax and believe that this could actually work.

But right now, with people popping in an out and Faye in the outer office, twenty kisses seemed so very, very, far away.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Created for the PBB Discord monthly challenge prompt: Soulmates


End file.
